


Winged

by MissParasol, Wildroserogue



Category: Magic Kaito, 名探偵コナン | Detective Conan | Case Closed
Genre: Alternate Universe - Greek Mythology, Established Relationship, F/M, Halloween, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-10-30
Updated: 2017-10-30
Packaged: 2019-01-26 19:43:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,650
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12564772
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MissParasol/pseuds/MissParasol, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wildroserogue/pseuds/Wildroserogue
Summary: A mysterious prophecy, and an unexpected trip to the land of the dead. Shinichi’s had worse days; Percy Jackson had nothing on him. Halloween fic AU - established Kaishin





	Winged

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> MissParasol and I are back with another collab! In the spirit of the season, we hope you guys enjoy this Halloween fic from us!

_“The raven dyed in black knocks on the doors under, and his companion dove follows through scarlet.”_

* * *

 

The cool air brushed against the back of Shinichi’s neck soothingly as he stepped out into the darkness of the night, leaving the bustle and chatter of the crowded room behind him. His collared shirt clung uncomfortably to his skin after being in a humid room filled with people, and it only served to further unsettle him. He tilted his head up to gaze at the silvery moon hung amidst darkened heavy clouds and took a deep breath of the cold night air, trying to rid himself of the uneasiness crawling and prickling at his skin.

Ran, and by default, Sonoko, had invited him to the yearly Halloween party held by the Suzukis and unsurprisingly, Sonoko had all but demanded for his presence at the party as the _Heisei Holmes_ , which led to his circumstances as of now. Socialising was never Shinichi’s forte; it tired him out especially since everyone seemed eager to strike a conversation with him due to his rising fame as a detective. He’d only just managed to escape from the clutches of socialising when he stepped out of the room, but the uneasiness and the jitters that had been bothering him since the start of the party still remained.

“-chi? Shinichi!”

Her voice rang out, clear and familiar over the background chatter. Shinichi turned, momentarily putting aside the uncomfortable churning of his stomach. “Ran!”

His childhood friend stood before him, carrying a jack-o-lantern fitting for the theme of the party. It was the first time that night that he was seeing her, given that it was near impossible to find anyone in the Suzukis’ huge ballroom. Shinichi laughed in delight, “How’d you find me? It’s so crowded!”

Ran smiled. “Figured you’d get sick of the crowd and come out here,” she replied with mirth, looking at Shinichi with knowing eyes. “Anyway, where’s Kaito? I’d thought he’d be with you all the time, considering how he’s so…”

“Obsessed?” Shinichi helpfully supplied, and laughed when Ran gave a firm nod of confirmation. “He has his own party to attend, apparently. He told me he’d come over later, though.”

“Later? It’s already close to twelve!”

Shinichi could only shrug in response. “Kaito does the most ridiculous things, and _no one_ can stop him.”

Ran nodded grimly at Shinichi’s answer as she thought back to her encounters with his magician boyfriend. Shinichi laughed, feeling slightly more relaxed than he did earlier now that he was conversing with Ran. “Sonoko’s not with you?”

“Oh, yeah, she’s not. She was looking for you for something, so we split up to search,” Ran explained, touching her fingers to her chin in thought. She turned to head back into the room and motioned to Shinichi. “Wait here, I’ll go get her!”

Shinichi gave a nod of affirmation and a small smile to Ran’s parting back. The wind blew softly against his hair as he watched Ran disappear back into the crowd, and the prickle of unease came back, stronger than ever. The air around him felt heavy and dense and Shinichi shut his eyes, frowning as he tried to shake himself out of his unease.

The grand clock chimed twelve, loud and reverberating throughout the room, momentarily drowning out the noise of the party. Ran easily squeezed her way through the crowd towards Shinichi, one hand still tightly clamped to Sonoko’s wrist, forcing her to keep up with her place, the other still holding her jack-o-lantern that seemed to be grinning eerily as it swayed.

Twelve strikes, and Ran slowed to a stop at the porch entrance, followed by a not-so-graceful Sonoko who stumbled over her steps.

The wind tousled her hair relentlessly, and Ran blinked, staring endlessly into the dark empty space of the porch that her friend was once in.

“Shinichi...?”

* * *

 

Shinichi opened his eyes, finding himself cast in an eerie blue glow from the soft luminescence of his surroundings. He was standing alone in a gravelly ruin worn with age, with crumbling stone buildings and pillars surrounding him. The blue glow, he realised, came from a circle of broken pillars he was standing in the middle of, somewhat resembling the porch Ran had found him in just a few minutes before.

A full moon hung overhead. Shinichi blinked in confusion with his head tilted up, squinting his eyes through the layers of fog and mist, and stared at the perfect circle of silver looming over him. Hadn’t it been a quarter moon at Sonoko’s party?

Perplexed, he shook himself out of his confusion at the sudden full moon. Things were starting to feel very, very wrong. _Where exactly was he…?_ Shinichi swallowed, pushing his rising anxiety down in favour of checking his surroundings out. He started with the pillars around him, running his hands down them and giving some of them an experimental shove. They didn’t budge, as he’d expected, but the unnatural blue light he’d initially noticed was concentrated within some words etched into the stone, in a language he’d never seen before.

Shinichi held back a sigh at the presence of an undecipherable clue. The only other thing he could do was to explore the place and try to find a way back to the hotel, if he was even in the same area anymore. His surroundings told him that he definitely wasn’t, but there was no way he could have teleported from one place to another in the blink of an eye, could he? Beside the ring of pillars, a thin river, deep red like the colour of life, flowed into a gurgling spring. If his memory served correctly, following the river should lead him to civilisation.

Looking around the dreary, empty ruin, Shinichi bit his lip in worry, and amended his thoughts, _if_ there was civilisation to be found.

He trudged alongside the river, eyes raking over his surroundings as he walked, absorbing and filing new information in his mind about this strange new area he had landed himself in. And with each clue, he methodically eliminated several possibilities and found himself being left with a single, non-scientific explanation he fervently hoped wasn’t true.

_When you have eliminated the impossible, whatever remains, however improbable, must be the truth._

He wasn’t at the hotel. More than that, he appeared to be in a different world, going by the things he was seeing, such as the glowing rocks and red river.

 _Is this what they call being spirited away?_ He thought, still trying his best to keep his panic at bay after accepting the fact that he probably wasn’t in Japan, or even in his own plane of existence anymore. His throat felt uncomfortably parched at this realisation and he briefly entertained the thought of drinking from the river to soothe his throat, before disregarding that thought completely. _It’s red. Who knows what’s in there,_ he chastised himself before deciding to avoid any direct contact with the ominous red river, sticking to walking some ways off besides it.

 _Seriously, why am I the one to get spirited away? Why can't it be someone else for once, like Kaito? He actually_ likes _having these sorts of adventures, anyway. He’s the escape artist, he’s much better equipped for getting out of these kinds of situations!_

A new thought suddenly strikes him, and he stills mid-rant. Oh god, _Kaito._ If he couldn’t find a way out of this place, the possibility that he might never see Kaito again would become very, very real. Shinichi wrapped his arms around his torso, shivering slightly, suddenly feeling very alone.

Nevertheless, he continued his walk alongside the bloodstained river, picking up his pace by just the slightest bit as he peered through the hazy darkness. He made out a blurry shape with the best of his limited ability to see through the heavy fog, and his mind tumbled to a halt. Was that… a _bus stop_?

A bus stop. There were actually bus-stops in a world where _rivers are red and rocks glow_ , Shinichi thought to himself incredulously, shaking his head at the ridiculousness of his situation. In a world filled with nothing but peculiar and foreign sights, the normalcy of a bus-stop only made it seem stranger. Nevertheless, he made his way towards the empty bus stop, grimacing at the the general filthiness of the area.

Pushing an overgrown vine out of his face, he treaded carefully among patches of unweeded grass as he inspected the bus stop. The railings and signboards were coated in a thick layer of dust and grime, with moss littering most of the available surface. Breathing thinly through the heavy stench of stale air, Shinichi kept an eye out for other useful clues pertaining to his plight.

A speck of white flitted about in the corner of his eye. Shinichi blinked subconsciously in a futile attempt to rid himself of his foggy vision, before his eyes landed on a small white dove perched on the rusted railing.

 _Kaito,_ his mind instinctively supplied, drawing a link to the magician, and Shinichi couldn’t help but feel slightly homesick at the familiar sight of the dove. Kaito kept many doves and used them for his magic tricks, though Shinichi actually had no idea how he had managed some of the dove related tricks that he pulled off. The dove at the bus stop stared back at him and Shinichi frankly had no idea what his next course of action should be because he was currently _having a staredown with a bird._

He couldn’t remember if he had blinked at all during the somewhat tense eye-battle with a member of the avian species, but the dove suddenly spread its wings and ruffled its pristine white feathers, effectively breaking eye contact between them.

As the dove casually picked at its feathers, a dingy old bus rolls to a stop in front of him. The motors whirred noisily and Shinichi heard the release of gas from the exhaust pipe of the unlit bus. He stared. Where was it headed? It had no signage on it whatsoever and not a single soul had alighted from that bus, so asking around wasn’t even an option.

Unless... he asked the dove?

He snorted at that thought, slightly mortified that he had even considered that, and in his contemplation, the bus engine picked up once again and the bus trundled off slowly into distance.

Shinichi turned back to look at the white dove, which had returned to staring at him with its beady eyes. He hummed lowly in his throat and shuffled to lean against the same railing the dove was perched on. The dove looked at him, almost inquisitively, and Shinichi felt compelled to reply. “I’m keeping a lookout for the buses that come. I might find a clue to home that way,” he explained, but was met with silence which he had obviously expected.

The dove seemed to understand though, but that could just be him projecting his desire for a companion, he reasoned to himself, because things were already weird as they were, and he had no inclination to make things weirder for himself, such as having a conversation with a not-so-ordinary bird.

A few more buses rolled by as he stood with the perched dove, all looking exactly identical to each other. Shinichi had almost fallen into a half-trance watching the buses come and go when the dove suddenly unfurled its wings and gave him a nudge with its beak.

At that very moment, another bus, identical to all the lasts slowed to a stop at the pickup point, and Shinichi heard the release of its exhaust, louder than ever. The dove flew to rest on his head for a moment or two, before fluttering off into the dimly lit bus through its open doors.

 _Was it asking him to follow?_ He took another glance at the bus, with its open doors like a waiting invitation. Was he supposed to board?

The dirty old bus seemed no different from the other buses that had stopped by earlier, and Shinichi began to wonder if he had been imagining things with the dove. However, the dove fluttered back into his line of vision, beating its wings at the entrance of the open doors, and gave a beckoning coo.

Shinichi blinked, before shrugging and pushing himself off the railing. There wasn’t any harm in actually boarding the bus like the dove wanted him to, since there didn’t seem to be any useful clues to be found at the bus stop anyway. He stepped into the bus, following the dove which now chose to rest on his shoulder. Grabbing onto a handrail, he gave a quick glance at the bus driver who was cloaked in shadows casted by the bad lighting inside the bus.

A cap sat snugly and shadowed the face of the driver, effectively preventing Shinichi from making out any features, and Shinichi could barely tell _what_ the driver actually was. A creature? A dead soul? However, the bus driver never spared him a glance, so Shinichi averted his gaze and chose to stare out of the windows instead.

He numbly watched on as the bus moved, bouncing occasionally as it drove over bumps and rocks. The windows inside the bus were also tinted dark, and Shinichi couldn’t see much of his surroundings even if he tried, with the inadequate lighting and practically opaque windows. He huffed in annoyance; it looked like he had no choice but to wait and see where the bus brings him before he could find out where it was headed.

The bus creaks to a stop after several minutes, snapping Shinichi out of his sour mood. The bus door opens and the dove flies out, Shinichi following reluctantly behind. The scene that greeted him was vastly different from the grayscale landscape he first found himself in, but no more pleasant. The river he had been following before was merely one among many others branching out from the monstrous body of water before him, and Shinichi wonders what exactly he is supposed to do next as he eyes the fast-flowing river apprehensively.

_The way out is across._

His head whips around to stare at the dove, but all it does is sit quietly, preening its feathers in a deceivingly innocent manner. But Shinichi knew better. Almost as if sensing his stare, the bird lifts it head (he could swear that it glares at him) and shifts, settling down in a position facing away from his right in a decidedly pointed manner.

Well, he’s already followed it this far. Shinichi turns in the direction that the dove indicates, and begins to walk along the river in a similar fashion as he had previously, the dove flying over to hitch a ride on his shoulder. He walks for an undeterminable amount of time, until the startlingly crimson river and the monochrome landscape bleeds into each other, swirling orange before his eyes; and the tiny pinpricks of pain from the sharp claws digging into his shoulder the only physical feeling in this cold, untouchable environment.

Then he comes across a man in a boat.

Shinichi isn’t very surprised at this point- the red river, the (seemingly) eternal night time and the depressing decor of his surroundings all fit in with his knowledge of- if he could even bring himself to believe it- the _Underworld_. So it was only to be expected that he would eventually meet Kharon, the ferryman of dead souls. Shinichi was more than a little relieved that he himself hadn’t met any souls on his journey yet, since he was pretty sure he probably (sadly) knew more dead people than alive ones at this moment.

What Shinichi _didn’t_ expect was for the ferryman to be sporting a head of very neatly styled blonde hair, and to be muttering to himself “the time now is 14:00 hours, 2 minutes and 37 seconds. The new batch of souls are late.” In an eerily familiar intonation reminiscent of when Shinichi himself was late to appointments with a certain British detective.

“ _Hakuba?_ What are you doing here?” Shinichi asks incredulously, and the blond turns at the sound of his voice.

Hakuba shoots him a sour look. “I am not ‘Hakuba’, whoever he is. You must have the wrong person. I am the ferryman, _Kharon,_ and I believe it is only respectful that you address me as such.” He glances down to his wristwatch, then looks back up in frustration. “I don’t suppose you’ve seen a group of lost souls wandering around? They’re late for their ride, which was scheduled for _two minutes and fifty seconds ago._ ” The irritation was clear in the blond’s voice, and Shinichi can’t help staring at this apparent stranger whose appearance and mannerisms are a complete mirror of his friend.

“I… Er, haven’t seen them,” Shinichi tells the ferryman apologetically, still unable to separate this not-Hakuba completely from the Hakuba he knows. His mind whirls with endless theories and possibilities. Will he meet others who look and act like his friends but are not them in this world? Was he in an alternate reality, perhaps? Will he meet an alternate version of himself?

...Or maybe even Kaito?

At that thought, despite dearly missing his boyfriend, Shinichi shudders. He’d rather not know the kinds of trouble alternate-reality Kaito could wreak if he could help it (because he knows Kaito _would_ definitely be a troublemaker, no matter what world he was in).

And then, the mysterious voice echoes again--

_The way out is across._

Shinichi stares at the bird again. If the way out was to go across…

He addresses Haku- _Kharon_ with some apprehension. “Kharon-san,” he begins politely. “When the new batch of souls arrive, may I ride across with them?”  

“No ride without payment,” the ferryman intones impassively, as if he’s repeated the phrase multiple times before.

 _Payment_? Shinichi searches his pockets, coming up with several 2,000 yen bills and a handful of 100 yen coins. “Not those,” Hakuba says, with barely a glance in his direction. “Do you have an _obolus_? _Danake_?” At Shinichi’s confused look, he sighs, pressing his thumb and forefinger to the bridge of his nose in a very Hakuba-esque fashion. “ _Foreigners_ ,” the ferryman grumbles, “they never bother learning the customs before coming down here.” Shinichi blinks. Hakuba would never have made a comment like _that,_ though.

“I’m sorry, but you won’t be able to cross without the proper currency,” the ferryman tells him in a rather unapologetic manner. And that was that. As the new souls finally arrive- “we are five minutes and twenty-seven point three seconds behind time, _please_ get into the boat quickly, we have a schedule to keep,” Hakuba gripes- and files into the boat, and Shinichi wracks his brain for a way to convince the blonde to let him onto the boat.

Then an idea comes to him when he sees one of the souls flicker, their body dissolving into shadow before solidifying again.

“Only the dead need to pay for passage across, right?” Shinichi calls out to the ferryman. “But I’m alive, so those rules don’t apply to me, do they?”

Hakuba, with his oar poised above the water, did a double take. “You’re… alive?” He questions, his brows furrowed as he stared hard at Shinichi. “Yes, I can see the light of the living shining from you. But you were so shrouded by Death’s shadow, I almost thought…” Hakuba’s mutterings trailed off, but it had been loud enough for Shinichi to hear the first part.

Shinichi sighs. Death’s shadow, huh? With the number of dead people he saw on a regular basis, he supposed it did seem like he was more often in the land of the dead than the living. Now _that_ was a morbid thought. But a more morbid thought was him being stuck down here forever because he wasn’t able to board Hakuba’s boat, so he turns his attention back to the problem at hand.

“Since I’m alive, in a land of the non-living, I would be considered an intruder. The most responsible thing to do would be to bring me to the king to report my presence to him,” Shinichi reasons, appealing to the ferryman’s sensible nature- the only other trait he seemed to share with real-world Hakuba aside from their appearance. _And then hopefully the king, whoever he is, can take pity on my poor, living soul and send me back home._

Hakuba considers his statement for moment, before sighing his acquiescence. “Very well. I suppose it would be prudent if I alerted the king to the presence of an unidentified living soul in the Underworld, instead of letting you run amok.” He resignedly gestures Shinichi onto the boat, and Shinichi clambers on board quickly before the blond could decide to change his mind. Hakuba touches his oar to the water, and the ferry glides off, moving without a sound over the strange red river, cutting straight across despite the strong current tugging at the small vessel.

“When we reach the gates, I’m handing this matter completely over to Cerberus. I don’t get paid enough for this job.” Shinichi hears Hakuba mutter petulantly to himself as he rows, to Shinichi’s amusement. “KID better leave my hair alone for a week once I tell him I willingly spoke to Cerberus; dealing with that guy is like talking to a vicious three-headed _dog_ .” The name ‘KID’ wasn’t familiar to Shinichi, but he did recognise ‘Cerberus’ as the name of the guardian of the gates to the _Underworld_. He tucked the information away in his head for future use, tuning out Hakuba’s persistent grumbling to observe the other passengers instead.

Strangely enough, the souls were all staring over the sides of the boat, their attentions rapt on something in the water. Some had tears on their faces; some were smiling, while others just looked over the sides with a sour expression. Shinichi glances down as well, but all he could see was crimson water splashing against the hull of their boat. “What are they staring at?” He asks Hakuba, cutting the other off in the middle of his rant.

“Have you heard the phrase ‘seeing your life flash before your eyes’?” Hakuba says. At Shinichi’s nod, he continues, “what they see in this river, the river _Styx_ , is their entire lives played out like a movie. For them to reflect, to regret, to rejoice, and eventually, to let go. When it is time for their reincarnation, they will be offered a drink from the river _Lethe_ , to cleanse them of the memories of their previous life and prepare them for the next.” He smiles wryly at Shinichi. “You, being alive, will not be able to see anything because your life is not yet concluded.”

Shinichi lets out a breath as he processed the newly acquired information. “I… see.” He closes his eyes, letting his breathing even out to match the rocking of the boat. If he was dead when he boarded the boat, would he like what he would see in the depths of _Styx_ ? To reflect, to regret, and to rejoice; this Hakuba had said. Which emotion would he feel strongest? It would be illogical to have no regrets, but he hoped regret wouldn’t be the crux of his life. Kharon, in a sudden show of perceptiveness rivalling his detective counterpart, continues rowing in silence through the blood-red river of _Styx_ , a mysterious smile on his face.

* * *

 

Shinichi steps out of the rocky wooden boat last, sidestepping a pebble on the shore along the way. His sore limbs tingle after being cramped up in the small boat for a significant amount of time; a sensation he is fairly used to after sessions of soccer practice and bouts of _murderer-tag._ He watches curiously and with slight trepidation as the “new batch of souls” that Hakuba ( _Kharon,_ he reminds himself yet again) had so eloquently labelled, airily floated over to the massive gate.

He stands next to the boat, with Kharon glowering stiffly at a figure standing almost protectively next to a silver plated gate some ways away. “Thanks,” he says after wetting his cracked lips with his tongue. “For the ride, I mean.” At this second, the dove very mysteriously gave a soft coo, almost in agreement, as it sat snugly on Shinichi’s right shoulder. The azure eyed teen blinks, and wonders about the white-feathered guide he’d chanced upon in the grimy bus stop earlier on. _Did it just...thank Hakuba?_

Hakuba sniffs in response to Shinichi’s (and the dove’s) word of thanks. “And thank _you_ for delaying me by an extra...” Here, Hakuba dips his head to look pointedly at his wristwatch, and stops glowering at what Shinichi assumed to be the Guardian of the Gate. “Four minutes and twenty-three point three seconds, now going _twenty-six point two_.”

Shinichi found himself watching on in amusement as Hakuba muttered on irritably, because Hakuba was _exactly the same_ even back in his world, having replied to Shinichi in the exact same way when he was late for an appointment.

“You’re welcome,” Shinichi tells him, eyes twinkling with mirth despite the situation he’d landed himself in, “now you can hand me over completely to Cerberus for him to deal with because you don’t get paid enough. Besides, you need to be on your merry way anyway, lest you end up running even later behind schedule,” he repeats the ferryman’s words from earlier, almost cheekily.

Hakuba breaks off his glower at the far off Gate Guardian and glances Shinichi over, looking surprised at his jab. “You know, for a living human in the _Underworld_ , you don’t seem very scared.”

Shinichi ponders about the remark for a moment, and realises it was probably due to the fact that Kharon’s mannerisms and features were so similar to his British friend that he had subconsciously let his guard down around him. “You don’t seem very scary,” he replies instead, because he knows that it would irk the blonde, considering how both Kharon and Hakuba essentially had the same quirks.

“Hey, _Kha-moron!_ ” A heavily accented voice that Shinichi instinctively recognised came yelling in the midst of their conversation, laced with deep set irritation that Shinichi found familiar, and almost nostalgic.

Hakuba’s expression immediately contorts into a grimace, having also recognised the voice, and he lets out a long suffering sigh. “Do yer job properly, would ya! Ta’ new batch of souls are _late,_ an’ Hades’ on _my ass_ because of _ya!_ ”

Shinichi turns towards the voice, spotting a dark skinned guard decked out in sturdy leather robes stomping his way over to them, with the expression and features matching a certain hot-headed Osakan Detective he knew. Underworld-Hattori’s sword clanks and rattles at his side with his less-than-graceful actions, and Shinichi rubs his temples at the oncoming headache he knew was almost guaranteed whenever he was faced with the Hakuba-Hattori duo.

“The souls _got lost_ , you stupid three-headed _dog,_ why don’t you go bark at them instead!” Hakuba snaps back at Hattori almost immediately, his copper brown eyes narrowed. “And it’s _Kharon,_ stop tagging _moron_ to it!”

“Then stop callin’ me _dog,_ it’s _Cerebus!”_ Hattori seethes, and Shinichi raises an eyebrow. Hattori...the Cerebus? The three-headed guard dog? Shinichi pictures a three-headed Hattori Heiji and snorts; Hakuba would probably go mad arguing with three talking heads of the detective. “Ya sure ya didn’t get lost in ta’ sea with yer stupid boat an’ rowin’ bamboo stick instead, ya _boat rower?_ ”

Shinichi watches on as the two bicker and hurl insults at each other, and mildly notices the dove fluttering its wings slightly on his shoulder. The noise they were making more than compensated for the eerie mind-numbing silence that had accompanied him all the way before he’d met Kharon, and now Shinichi wasn’t so sure which he preferred.

He chooses to wait instead for the affronted ferryman to steer the topic of the conversation (argument) towards him, which Hakuba eventually does, a tad bit more bluntly than Shinichi would have liked. “Whatever, there’s no point arguing with you anyway, it’s like arguing with a _dog_ \- Oh wait, _right_.” He pauses mid-speech in mock realisation, his mocha-coloured eyes raking over the bronze-skinned guard who bristled in response.

“Ya-- _Ya goddamn pigheaded boat rower_ , _”_ Hattori hisses, gritting his teeth in a fashion Shinichi found amusingly similar to his human counterpart when his irritation flared. “Ya think yer so _smart_ , don’cha?”

“In fact, yes.” Hakuba replies, as blandly as ever. Shinichi barely refrains from snorting out a laugh at Hattori’s outraged expression following Hakuba’s nonchalant answer. “Putting your childish tantrum aside, it is imperative that we promptly address a certain matter at hand- that is, this living soul here in the _Underworld,_ ” he gestures.

“Whaddya just say, _ya sonnova_ \-- Wait. What?” Hattori pauses mid-rant to process the irate ferryman’s words. He breaks eye contact with the blond and turns to face Shinichi, who had been silently observing them from the side, and peers closer at him with an inquisitive eye.

Shinichi leans backwards slightly at Hattori’s close inspection of his face, and his fingers twitch with the urge to fold his arms defensively. Hattori leans in even further, paying no heed to social cues, his eyes raking over the detective from head to toe. And then he nodded to himself as if reaching a conclusion, mystifyingly satisfied for some reason Shinichi decided he didn’t want to know. Even back in his world, Hattori always have had this weird obsession with him and how they were supposedly fated rivals, which was _especially_ obvious during cases.

“Yer not dead?” He asks Shinichi brusquely, in a fashion that closely resembled human Hattori’s infamous tactlessness. Shinichi couldn’t help but let his lips curve up in fond amusement.

“I’m not, and neither am I part of this world,” he replies, and barely conceals a grin as Hattori lifts a clothed arm up to scratch at the back of his head, looking ridiculously perturbed. Shinichi’s presence had more than likely thrown Hattori for a loop; it probably wasn’t everyday for them to exchange greetings with an otherworldly presence. Shinichi thinks, slightly nonplussed, if he was something like an alien to them since he was, per se, from a different world.

“But how?” Hattori blurts out, staring at Shinichi with wide eyes, and Shinichi feels more and more like an alien in their territory under Hattori’s stupefied gape.

Hakuba snorts, probably marvelling at what he thinks to be the stupidity of the guardian, as Shinichi shrugs. “That’s what I’d like to know,” he says in reply, rolling his eyes, because really. He’d once wondered what the intelligence level of a non-detective Hattori Heiji might be, and now he’s pretty sure it probably wouldn’t be anything much, by the looks of Hattori Heiji: Cerebus version.

Hakuba chooses to speak up here. “But before that he needs to see the king. An unidentified living soul running amok in the Underworld only spells trouble,” he grumbles petulantly and Shinichi awkwardly smiles when his dove chirps loudly, as if in agreement with the ferryman.

Hattori blinks in consideration, looking over to Shinichi. “I’d take yer to him myself, but I can’t leave ta’ gate unguarded,” Hattori tells him. The batch of souls he had arrived with had already moved ahead, beyond the gates to the core of the _Underworld_ , leaving just the two antagonistic spirits and Shinichi standing together on the riverbank. The dark-skinned guardian grins, drawing his sword. “But I _do_ know some people who can take yer there.”

Closing his eyes, Hattori adopted a Kendo stance, gripping his sword in the traditional starting position. Hakuba groans. “They aren’t even _people,_ they’re devilish, evil, savage-” Before Shinichi could wonder at the strangeness of this statement, Hakuba was suddenly thrown to the ground with a loud “oof!”

And Shinichi blinks incredulously, because there are now _two miniature Hattori(s)_ jumping up and down on the blonde’s back, while normal-sized Hattori laughs hysterically above him.

“Get your- _ouch, leave my hair alone-_ damn _puppies_ off me, Cerberus!” Hakuba demands angrily, as the doll-sized versions of the gate guardian begin climbing up his body, pummelling him wherever their tiny fists could reach. “No can do,” Hattori chortles, “they do what they like, an’ yer know they don’t like bein’ insulted, especially by a _Kha-moron_ like ya.”

“Anyway,” Hattori says, turning to Shinichi (and conveniently ignoring the increasingly angry yells of the irate ferryman behind them), “these two guys are ta’ best guides I know. They’ll get yer to Hades without a doubt.” Shinichi doubtfully looks at the two mini hattori(s) who were busily occupied with beating the ferryman to within an inch of his life. “Aww, don’t look so worried, will ya?” Hattori slaps him cheerfully on the back. “They’re me!”

Shinichi nods wordlessly, eyeing the two miniatures with some degree of trepidation despite Cerberus’s reassurance. Well, he’s always trusted Hattori to get the job done when needed, so there wasn’t any good reason for him not to put his trust into his Underworld counterpart, right? He allows himself to be led by the two mini Hattori(s) who toddle through the gates before him, with Cerberus waving cheerfully from the opposite side and Kharon standing sullenly beside him.

The massive gates slowly creak shut behind him, and Shinichi feels his senses shift; the dense fog weighed down on him heavier than before and his skin prickled forebodingly. The night seemed darker and the air felt cooler, and Shinichi barely breathes through the thick mist layering the air.

Steeling his nerves, Shinichi follows the guides into the dark, foggy depths of the Underworld, and in the distance, the piercing cry of a raven echoes across the dark plains, splitting the silence of the midnight sky.  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that's it! We hope you guys enjoyed this particularly long chapter; who else do you think Shinichi will meet next? Let us know what you think in the comments!
> 
> Signing off,  
> MissParasol, Wildroserogue


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